Infected
by Gryff inTheGame
Summary: Star-crossed lovers from opposite sides of the war are caught in the crossfire. Can true love be accepting of all faults when the truth is finally revealed? Or is it better to give up on love and be separated by a fate worse than death. Just how far is true love prepared to go be together?


Hello GiTG here!

This will be a *W.I.P* released in the coming weeks. Info avail at Gryff_inthegame on FB or gryff-in-the-game on tumblr :) or make sure you subscribe to get notified. "Infected" tied for first place in the Under 500 #caughtinthecrossfire music comp, which I guess is kind of cool. It was written to rhe song "Crossfire" by Stephen.

Beta-love to DreamingOfStars85 X

JK Rowling owns. The plot is mine.

* * *

Today is an ordinary day, save for the fact that they are living in a war-torn Wizarding World. All that once was, is but a mere memory lost in the past. All that remains, is the unknown. The future is futile. Fear is more than a one syllable word, layered like an onion: tear-inducing, bitterly acidic and pungent. It's a time when sacrifices aren't deemed irrational nor heroic. It's simply something seen as done for the greater good. In a world with little left to live for, love is the solid foundation for hope of a better life. Love is the chaos created to calm the storm. Love is the inevitable; an equation derived from a place where the forces of a wizard from the dark side and a witch from the light came together on the strangest of terms. Because together they found middle ground. Together they learned to love in the thick of it all. Together they lived to love. Now, they're fighting for their right to be together. They made a pact to bring an end to the evil forces parading the Wizarding streets. It has failed in every sense.

The truth is, not even love can save the day when evil breeds like the common cold; a pepper-up potion isn't a permanent fix. These star-crossed lovers are caught in the violent crossfire of it all. As the forces close in on them, their worst fears are about to come true.

* * *

Hermione lays motionless on the muddied floor as a sticky, thick substance runs from an open wound on her chest. Her head is bruised and bloodied, the rise and fall of her chest is weak as she struggles to breathe - she's struggling for her life. Her body is slowly shutting down. Her heart, once fierce and strong, is now slowly but surely giving up on her, though she is desperate to cling to life. She can't leave him here. No. Not like this. Not after everything she now knows about him. Not after learning how to love as strongly as this.

She knows that he is not pure, but he has a good heart. She knows how insecure he is despite his constant cold display of arrogance. She's seen the beauty in his darkness despite his resistance, because only when someone is truly broken can the light get in. Hermione wants to scream. To get up and fight for her life to save herself, rather than lay around and wait for death to take her. Unfortunately, only the fates can decide, and at the moment, she is weak.

* * *

On most days, Draco wakes up in the Manor to sunlight threatening to spill through the clouds - never making it past the control of Voldemort's influence on the weather. The sound of birds chirping is a rare occurrence. However, it's well after midnight in the Forest of Dean, dawn to be exact, and the sound of birds can be heard near and far as they echo through the trees surrounding them. Hermione is several metres away from him, lying injured in a collapsed heap on the floor, her wand out of reach. He is currently bound and bleeding in a fierce rage.

"I found the pup with his bitch," barks Rabastan Lestrange; the young Beta gleams at his Alpha. A midnight stroll after a long day of Death Eater business meant they were being lead by their hunger, but it quickly turned into a hunt when they picked up the scent of their subordinate. The thrill of the hunt intensified when they realised his scent was masked with another - the filth of a Mudblood.

"Delicious looking thing isn't she? coos Greyback.

Fenrir Greyback is predatorily circling her, licking his lips in delight at their discovery. He kicks her using his foot to roll her body over so he can get a better look at the Mudblood his pup has been consorting with.

"Don't touch her!" shouts Draco, blood pooling in his mouth. He not so casually spits it out, aiming at Greyback.

Greyback glares, exposing his sharp incisors. They're yellowing, caked in decay, desperate to sink into some meaty flesh. He grimaces at the insubordination of his mongrel.

"You forget your place pup? I fucking own you!" he drawls.

Draco snaps back in annoyance.

"The light of the full moon fucking owns me."

Greyback quips, "The Dark Lord won't be impressed by your lack of obedience. Does she know?"

"The Dark Lord won't give a fuck because he's not going to know about it. And no, I haven't told her, but it wouldn't have surprised me if she figured it out."

"My, my. Confident, aren't we mutt?" rebukes Greyback with bite. "You see, I'm at liberty to inform the Dark Lord of the packs movements. You fucking a Mudblood is included in that."

Rabastan howls as the rest of the pack arrives. Thorfinn Rowle, Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini join the circle; the unfortunate additions after Voldemort had ordered a one year kill ban after the Battle of Hogwarts, meaning every single person Fenrir had sunk his teeth into became a werewolf unless they chose to greet death - which the large majority have, much to the Dark Lord's dismay. He wanted an army in the Underworld. Little did he know, Greyback wanted to own the Wizarding World, as well as the Underworld. Theo and Blaise were turned as punishment for refusing their place in his regime. Draco was turned due to his mother's lie and his father's constant trail of fuck ups.

"You're not above anyone here, pup," barks Rabastan with a smirk."I think we better get these two to Malfoy Manor. What do you say boss?"

Greyback runs his tongue along his teeth while deep in thought.

"I'd prefer to play with her a little longer," he concludes.

"Beggars can't be choosers," states Rabastan. "He'll be furious either way and we'll be punished for it."

"Always the one to see reason," barks Greyback through gritted teeth, not wanting the advice of his second in command, but accepting defeat in the truth of it.

"Fine. You take the girl, I can't control myself."

"My pleasure," chimes Rabastan with an extra spring in his step as he throws Hermione over his shoulder, and Apparates them out of the forest.

* * *

The day in captivity is long. Hermione had woken on the cold stone floor of a dungeon, with most of her clothing ripped to shreds. There is still an immense amount of pressure from the wound in her chest despite half of it being ripped open. Her fear has subsided due to the level of pain she's experiencing. At least the agony is enough of a distraction from her woes. Draco is nowhere to be seen, but the echoing footsteps approaching her gives her a glimmer of hope.

"Who's there?" she asks cautiously.

"No one you're looking forward to seeing," answers Theo. "Why couldn't you be more careful? Do you know what they're doing to him up there?"

"Excuse me? Am I right in saying you think this is my fault?"

"That Draco's up there been tortured to Hell and back? Yeah, it is. He could have had any witch, but he chose you. What can be so good about a girl that makes her enemy do a complete one-eighty?"

"I don't know. Why haven't you asked him that?" she inquires.

"Oh, we have. Believe me, we have. He doesn't tell us shit," asserts Theo with a look of defeat.

"Probably because it's absolutely none of your business," sasses Hermione point blank, her voice full of defiance.

"His business _is_ my business. Do you know how hard it's been to survive? Do you know anything about what he's been through - what we've all been through?" interjects Theo.

"I know enough to know that it's wrong. I know enough to know that something's gotta give. If you know him as well as you say you do, why haven't youbeen helping him stop this? The whole damn picture, not just the stuff that directly affects you."

Theo grunts in frustration at the witch in front him. He begins pacing outside her cell while their conflict continues.

"In case you haven't noticed, Granger, we kind of have a wolf problem here."

Hermione nods her head in admittance. She knew about Draco; she saw the signs. She was merely waiting for him to confess to her. It disappoints her to know that he doesn't feel like she can be trusted with the truth about him. She can help him - she can brew _Wolfsbane,_ she can be supportive of him. She's never felt threatened by him, not once, since they've been together. He always made sure of that, that he was nowhere near her during the cycle of the full moon, and on the days he felt sick, he would put it back on Death Eater business. He always had an excuse to hide the truth from her. He was scared of judgement day, but little did he know, judgement day would never come. She couldn't care less about him being a half-breed. Hermione had spent most of her life being judged for being a Muggleborn, who is she to judge someone infected by Lycanthropy against their will? She can only assume it was against his will and, given the lengths he's gone to try keep it a secret, he isn't proud of it.

Hermione chews on her bottom lip, using her teeth to peel off the cracked, dried skin there; she's dehydrated. She admits to knowing about his condition, but she was truly surprised to learn that more of her classmates were infected.

"I'm not oblivious to the fact, no. But that hasn't stopped him from trying. Why should it stop you?"

"Because I value my shitty, half-breed life."

"You can help end this, you know," she says convincingly.

"No one can," he mutters in defeat.

"Be optimistic. Look at it from my position."

"Yeah, about that. Your position isn't too fucking fantastic right now. You know you're not getting out of here alive, right?"

"I have every intention of getting out of here, and alive at that." She expresses it with clear, bold determination.

"Keep dreaming about it. The only way you're getting out of here is if you become a Death Eater, a member of our pack, or both. Regardless, you'll be lucky to be given the choice, if the Dark Lord even deems you worthy enough. You'll have to prove yourself first."

"And you think I'm unworthy?"

"Draco doesn't. Therefore, I see the potential. You're going to have to act fast because I can assure you, the shit he's enduring right now for falling in love with you...I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."

Hermione takes in the crisp air at the sharpness of his tone, and begins to feel a raw ache to the wounds in her chest. Her head now hurts from thinking so much.

"Tell me what I need to do," she says while placing her head in her hands, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "Please. Let me help," she pleads.

"Are you prepared to break, Granger? In order to let the dark in, you have to shatter beyond repair, because once that shit reaches your soul, you'll never be the same. With him or not."

Hermione rubs her face before letting it go, raising it with a new lease of life at the realisation of what she's going to do. Her eyes connect with Theo's, and they come to an understanding in their exchange.

"I'll do whatever it takes to keep him safe and end this."

"I hope you understand exactly what you're agreeing too. Can you take a life, Granger? Are you prepared to bite people, possibly people you know? Maybe even children. Are you understanding everything that you know as right, is now wrong?"

"I know."

"Then it's best you be prepared to become werewolf tonight."

"I'm not worried. I can't be tamed."

"You won't have much of a choice in the matter. Whether you like it or not, obedience is what gets you by in here. Learn that and you'll do well. It's a dog eat dog world here, Granger, pun intended. You have to impress the right people."

"I'll do it. But in return, I need to ask something of you."

"I'm not the one that fucked up here. I owe you nothing."

"No, you're not. But you'll help me."

"What else do you want, Granger?" he barks. "Haven't you done enough?"

"You need to do it. He won't be fit to. Don't let anyone else do it. Don't let them touch me."

"Draco will kill me," scoffs Theo.

"He'll understand. It's the only way."

"Hell has just reserved a seat for you, Granger. As the muggle saying goes, 'buckle up, buttercup.' Saint turned sinner in the devil's playground. This is your refuge now."

"Take me to them."

"As you wish, wolf-girl."


End file.
